


Say a Prayer for Peace

by thingsishouldntbedoing - discontinued (arminoni)



Series: The Symphony of Two Thousand Years [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Immortality, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arminoni/pseuds/thingsishouldntbedoing%20-%20discontinued
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war had ended and the walls came crashing down all Eren wanted was peace. He just wanted, for once, to rest. To close his eyes and forget that he was alone. That none of them were ever coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling sad so I wrote this. I think I'm going to make it a real story. Let me know what you think. I'm on tumblr as thingsishouldntbedoing.

The first time he tried to kill himself was a disaster.

The winds were bitterly cold, biting through the flimsy, rough fabric of his cloak that had once been his pride. His safety blanket. The ragged ends flapped in the wind; cracking whiplike in the frantic air that seemed to push and lull like the ocean.

He had thought it might be warmer here. He wondered now, watching the dawn ping against the glistening marble before him, why he had thought there was any warmth in the world left.

Chilled fingers scraped the intricate engraving, rubbing over the rough contrast of letters on cool, sleek marble. More cold. Cold and bitter stone that drew bile from his stomach and stiffened the grip on the blade in his hand.

"If you can't do it I can," he proclaimed.

Only the roaring of the ocean replied, waves rushing in over the shore and devouring the sand there-- greedy and unforgiving.

The world was an empty place. A place he hoped he would soon be forgotten from. A worthless, destructive, devastatingly beautiful place whose last memories burned his wind-chapped face and quivered his lip.

Death would be too easy a release. Too simple of a retreat from the life he had lived. Yes, he suppose he deserved this in some sick way: to live. To live and watch all the others around him fade away. To know that whether or not dreams were achieved... He would achieve them alone.

And a solitary achievement is nothing. He knew that. Everything he'd accomplished in his life surrounded the lives of other people, swallowed them up and ruined them in the best and worst of ways. He'd changed people for the better and destroyed their hopes and dreams. He'd ripped families apart and helped new ones form.

But most of all he'd formed his own family. A mismatched group of friends and one particularly cranky Captain whose lives had all been changed by him in one way or another. Whose lives now meant little to anyone but to be exhaulted heroes who led the charge into the darkness before the dawn.

They would never know their stories. They wouldn't know how the squad had teased Sasha about potatoes or how Jean Kirstein had been _ponyboy_ or how Armin had loved him fiercely. They wouldn't know how Mikasa grew open and warm with her friends. How she learned to let go. How she died by Eren's side: and equal and trusting.

They would never know how Christa had loved one of the enemy. How Ymir had loved her in return. Nor would they know the story of Connie and how his village changed the world.

No. They only knew their names. They only knew their deeds. Never the bonds between them that even now held him here-- spellbound before a monument to broken bodies and tireless spirit.

They only knew Humanity's Strongest.

They hadn't seen _his_ humanity. They hadn't seen his strength. They hadn't seen how his broad shoulders buckled under the weight he bore, how at night he would sit at the edge of the bed and stare off into the shadows; haunted by some unseen nightmare.

They would never hear the softness of his voice, velvet in the dawn, stirring him awake as warm arms enveloped him. They would never know how it felt to have him whisper his affections against the nape of his neck in the way his breath rushed against his skin.

They would never know how _love_ had been a part of their vocabulary. How it had been the only thing keeping them standing. How it had been the only hope that stood a chance against the bitter ending of the world.

Yet here, standing in the cold, he wished they had. Then maybe they wouldn't have erected a monument built in frozen solemnity, bearing the weight of their deaths like an absurd wall against the warmth of their lives; a monument to the disrespect of the dedication and joy their days had been filled with.

"I'm coming home," he whispered. The strike was swift and fierce, forced in with all his might. A strike filled with the fury and frustration of being the last one left. The last of his family.

And as his blood poured over the monument, splattering the names, warming--for a moment-- the cold stone that bore them, he felt release like the feathered touches of an angel drawing him into the warmth of the dawn.

 _Finally_. His eyes faded, irises fixed upon the shoreline as the ocean rushed against it. The ocean.

Darkness.

A deep blissful end within the embrace of his friends.

Then it was over and his flesh was knitting back together. Steam rose hot in the rising sun, billowing around him as he lay prone against the ground, wracked breathing harsh. Anger flooded him, the fury of an army, devastation took him and cast him against the ground as tears streaked hot down the cold skin of his cheeks. He cried in earnest then, sobbing against the chilled monument, clawing at the names in desperation.

He hadn't asked for this. Not to see this day. He hadn't wanted this. Not to be _alone_ in every possible way. His sobs had nowhere to go, flat and sharp against the marble headstone that marked where their graves were not. That he crushed his forehead against and wrapped his arms around and wished, for a moment, that he could destroy. Destroy the last of their names so no one could remember them but him. Because they wouldn't remember them properly.

Maybe that was why he was here. Maybe that was why he was cast down into the mud, clawing handfuls in futility, screaming into the greying morning sky. Screaming until he was hoarse and broken, until his tears meant nothing in the cool mist of the ocean spray. Maybe that was why he shook violently, clawing at himself, desperate to feel anything but hatred and anger and _sorrow_.

Maybe. But he had no explanation. No one to help him. No one who could tell him why he had to be this way.

Eren Jaeger was alone.

* * *

The second time he just wanted to sleep.

It wasn't as if anything had changed. Not really. It had been five hundred years since the fall of the titans and they had been all but forgotten. Names of those who had saved them had been wiped away.

Except Humanity's Strongest -- whose legacy had become warped. The legacy of a man who could change into a titan and slay them with a blade.

Eren supposed that wouldn't have been half bad, five hundred years with Levi by his side would have been better than the desolation he suffered through. It would have been better than how he felt now, walking amongst humans whose technology had been lost in the fall of the walls, amongst humans he didn’t recognize… humans whose faces and names no longer sounded like his own.

Humans, he forced himself to remember, he had wanted to own the world once more.

Humans who would never know what being kept like cattle would fee like.

And when he remembered that… it almost made it worthwhile. Remembering that he had given the world back made his throat burn.

His anger began to fade, then, but it left an aching hole. What was he without his anger now? What was he now that he had nothing and felt nothing?  
  
He wandered through the packed dirt streets, listening to their foreign tongue. They said he spoke with an accent. They asked where he was from. Answering them was becoming more difficult by the year, so he didn’t, how could he explain? How could they understand? Humans and their fragile lives. Lives that shattered so easily against the steel of his own.

Humans he now wondered if he belonged to.

 _Am I human anymore?_ He clutched the fabric of his cloak, gritting his teeth against the sob that threatened his aching limbs. He wondered if, somehow, there was a way to end this.

To become human again.

To die was to be human. To die would mean the embrace of those he loved. To die meant the warmth of his loved ones.

 _I hope you didn’t wait long._ He thought as he passed between trees and sank into the soft banks of a lake. He pushed cattails and reeds aside, embracing the cold of the water as his clothes grew heavy. _You’re all gone._ He shivered, looking up to the moon above him, eyes hot and damp. _All I’ve ever wanted to do is live. All I ever wanted is to live to see the outside world…_

 _Well I think I’ve had enough of that._ His shoulders shook beneath the weight of his pain, the pain of living beyond his time.

The pain of watching the things he held dear wash away.

This time there would be no more pain.

He took a breath of water, felt it rush into him and take him. There it was again, the bright of the dawn and the rush of blood in his ears. He could see them almost, could reach out and feel their fingers touch.

It was so familiar he could have screamed. So close. So close to reaching them. He shook and sobbed and struggled but in the end.  
  
Darkness.

And water rushing out of his lungs. And choking on the air that flooded into them in return. And _anger_.

His anger returned, hot and vicious in his chest, left him breathless in a different way. Anger surged through him so violently it turned into bloodlust. Anger at living. Anger at being alive. Anger at whatever he was stealing everything from him.

Absolute fury like he hadn’t felt in centuries.

Because once again. Against all odds.

Eren Jaeger was trapped.

* * *

The third time.

It had been two thousand years. Two thousand torturous years of _living._ Living and breathing and existing the worst and most painful ways possible.

Two thousand years before when he’d lived inside the walls he’d thought he’d seen the worst of humanity.

And he was right.

Here, in this world so unlike his own, the people had yet to change. Their kindness still surprised him, their vileness never did, and their ability to adapt was beautiful in the same way a field of flowers had once taken his breath away and brought tears to his eyes.

He had seen more, breathed more, learned more, fought more than anyone else he’d ever known. He’d walked through battlefields and tended wounds and delivered babies and watched the people around him die and lived a thousand lifetimes. And through all of them he’d been alone.

Alone in a way none of them could understand.

Alone in the way that left him empty and cold even when joy filled him at the smile of a newborn child. Alone in the way that choked him in the dark of the night.

Alone because the last of the monument to his forgotten friends had begun to crumble in the palms of his hands as he sat on a bus bench in a busy city. Because next to the plastic pill bottle in his fingers the chipped marble was all he had left in the world except the desperation.

All he wanted was rest. All he wanted was to finally close his eyes. To finally feel something warm and wonderful. To feel the peace he had now longed for through millennia of sadness and desperation.

They swore their medications would help. Swore their lives would be better if they took them. Humans swore by their treatments and scams and clung desperately to the belief that immortality was the beauty of life…

They were wrong.

They were wrong and they didn’t know it. Wouldn’t know it. Couldn’t know it. Because that was what made them human. _Human._ That word had come to mean more to him now than it ever had before. Humans and titans were no longer the problem. Now it was human versus human about every topic he could fathom… and it was a struggle he had come to understand in the most intimate way possible.

A struggle that filled him with anger and life and joy. A struggle that helped him to drag what was left of his carcass forward. Forward toward whatever end that he could find.

If this helped. If, with this final attempt, he could emerge into the light and hear his best friend’s laughter and have his sister’s arms around him… if he could argue with Jean once more or wrestle with Connie or… if he could feel the palms of his lover’s hands against his skin or hear his voice in anything but a dream. Erwin. Petra. Erd. Marco. Sasha. Mike. Hanji. _Anyone._

If any of those things happened he could finally be at peace. He could finally _rest_.

 _Does it matter how many I take?_ He looked back at the bottle, feeling his stomach churn at the thought of failing. Of losing the final battle against himself.

Of literally living _forever._

For a moment he thought of losing the battle of forgetting everything. Of letting all those memories fade away and the realization emerged that he _had._

Suddenly, ferociously he began to cry. He doubled over and buried his face in his hands and earnestly cried. As he had so many years before, clawing at the marble statue before him, nearly screaming the pain that radiated from deep inside of him.

He couldn’t remember the sound of Hanji’s voice or the color of Erwin’s eyes. He had forgotten the sound of Armin’s voice when it filled with delight at the beauty of the world. He had forgotten the color of Mikasa’s hair in the sunset and the colors of the world he’d left before. He’d forgotten Jean’s stirring words that drew him from depression on top of a wall the size of a mountain. Forgotten. He’d forgotten everything.

He was losing them.

He was losing them all for the final time.

In the worst way.

“Why!” He screamed, rising to his feet. “Why the hell are you doing this to me!? He clenched his hands so tightly the bottle snapped and pills fell everywhere in the miserable drizzle that fell around him. He clenched his hands so tightly the marble burned at his palm and cut his skin. “Why are you doing this to me!?” Fury and frustration built until he was a screaming, sobbing mess of insanity. Until he was on his knees in the middle of an empty street, crying up at the sky like a small child-- lost and abandoned.

Here he was with a backdrop of flickering overheads and the harsh colors of flashing stoplights: yelling at the top of his lungs at a god he knew now couldn’t exist. Releasing every ounce of tension he’d carried in his shoulders all these long years and decades and centuries. He had hit rock bottom on his tired knees, pounding his fist against the pavement as if that could offer some solace or comfort to him. Cold and hard and trapping-- how had anything really changed?

“I’LL DESTROY IT!” He said it before he could stop himself. “DESTROY ALL OF IT!” He lifted his hand to his face in a fury. _I’ll destroy it all!_  
  
“WAIT!” A voice cut the rain, footsteps pounding in his ears as he let out another roar of anguish.  
  
“I’VE WAITED!” He screamed. “I’ve waited so long!” He didn’t see the stranger’s face as a pair of strong arms wrapped around him, pulling his hands gently away from his face. “So long!” He cried, shaking against the warmth of the body around his. “I’ll destroy it. I’ll break it down… I’ll… I’ll do anything…” he hiccupped, pressing his face into the offered shoulder and rubbing his eyes into the fabric as words failed him. He clutched his jacket, moaning in pain. “I just want… I just want…”  
  
“I know,” the voice murmured against his ear and he _calmed_. “I know I’m sorry…” The man drew away and caught his face, wiping away the tears from his stunned face. “I’m so sorry, Eren.”  
  
“You know my name,” tears of anger were flooded from his damp and dirty skin. “You know my name.” His lips trembled before they were pulled apart in a shaking smile of sadness. He searched his face and found familiar eyes set in a familiar face beneath familiar dark hair.

Familiar.  
  
“Oh Saints…” Eren pulled him into his body, held him close and pressed his face into his neck and prayed for a moment that he could press himself into his body. “Levi…”  
  
For the first time in two millennia he cried tears of joy.

For the first time he looked into the eyes of another person and fell in love.

Even if he smelled different. Even if he looked different. Even if he’d had to wait all these years to get here.

It all seemed worth it.

Because Eren Jaeger was at peace.

Finally.  _Finally_ at peace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi takes his new ward home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more sad. And some sweet. And a whole lot of confusion. I am thingsishouldntbedoing on tumblr and I'm now tracking **fic: say a prayer**
> 
> I was listening to Isle of Inisfree by Celtic Woman while writing this chapter. Just fyi.
> 
> THERE'S FANART FOR THIS STORY NOW HELP ME. [HEEERE!!!](http://zipra.tumblr.com/post/73069710589/i-dont-know-i-knew-your-name-i-knew-i-wanted)

Levi watched him closely as he led him into the elevator, wondering if maybe he really had just lost his mind. He was allowing a homeless man into his home. A _dirty_ homeless man that clutched a box to his chest as if it would vanish in a puff of smoke if it left his arms. But the longer he looked at him the more he realized that this man still had the softness of youth in his face; a teenager. 

"How old are you?" Levi asked softly.

"I don't know anymore," Eren answered promptly, shoulders tight at attention.

"That's a silly answer. How old are you?" He pressed.

"I am old," Eren gave another noncommittal answer and Levi sighed.

"We'll try again later; can you tell me about why I know your name?" He watched despair spill into familiar ocean eyes, felt his heart quake.

"You don't remember me?" Worry filled him that Eren might dissolve into tears once more and he reached out to touch him.

"I don't know... I knew your name. I knew I wanted to help you. I don't... _know_ you." Levi knew that wasn't the answer Eren had been looking for. It was obvious the way he wilted into the corner of the elevator, the way his sparkling eyes deadened to a swirling storm of emotions. He wished he could help, could give him the answer he was looking for.

"I would like to know you," he added.

That seemed to cheer him up, seemed to give him some comfort in the moment. Levi wasn't even sure if the words were true-- perhaps that was the lie: all he wanted was to know more about this boy. He was curious in a way he hadn't been in years; who was he and where did he come from? He spoke with an ageless accent and wore modern clothes and moved with the kind of fluid grace he hadn't seen before.

"When was the last time you lived in a house?" Levi asked.

"Before the rise of humanity," he answered, voice hollow.

 _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ Levi wondered, brows furrowed. This boy was an enigma. An insane enigma.

"Well you can stay with me until we can find you a place to stay," Levi told him. "But you'll have to help me out, alright? Do some cleaning or something?" From the looks of him Levi didn't think he'd ever cleaned anything in his life; but something about his words brightened the boy's eyes further.

"Yessir!" Eren nodded eagerly, as if he'd just been told to eat a six course meal with the president. "Of course I'll do anything to return your kindness."

 _What a strange kid_. Levi was sure he'd think that a lot more before this was over. He let him into the apartment and watched the way his face sank into delight, watched as he pulled his shoes off and set them aside to look around, feet soft against the hardwood. He wondered just how much of the world he'd seen, how much hatred and cruelty, what the underbelly of the world had done to him in his life-- however long that had been-- and yet here he was inspecting the appliances in his kitchen and delighting in the pressured tap water as he washed his hands and the glint of stainless steel that nearly reflected his face as he passed. He wandered into the living room next, sliding his clean fingers over the dark leather of the sofa, passing over the curtained windows for the moment as he peered into the bedroom.

"Would you like to shower?" Levi asked, lingering in the doorway as the boy stroked his fingers over the soft duvet and fingered at the mahogany headboard.

"You have good taste," Eren murmured. "You always did." A fond, loving smile spread over his face and Levi felt a heady rush of déjà vu; the way his smile peeled away the layers of sadness and despair that had been there before made his heart leap. _Who is he?_

"Ah thanks I think?" Levi felt the nudge of common sense, that there was the potential for this boy to be some kind of stalker. "Here I'll--"

"It's fine," he raised a graceful hand. "I can use the water. I should learn."

The wisdom in his eyes, the assured manner with which he spoke, the kindness that he emanated now that he was calm-- all of it persuaded him not to add, "don't touch anything".

"Towels are in the cabinet. I'll lay out some clean clothes," he instructed. "Do you want me to--" he was about to offer to take the box but Eren sat it down on a bedside table with a 'thunk' and looked up at him curiously.

"You always sleep facing the door right?" Eren murmured and Levi swallowed hard against whatever fear or interest built in his throat.

"Yes, I suppose I do," he said. "Have a shower. I'll be here." 

"Yes, you will be," Levi thought he saw tears swim in his eyes again as he turned to walk into the bathroom, "thank you, Levi."

"You're welcome," he nodded and shut the bedroom door.

 _Should I call 911?_ He picked up his phone and dialed the number, staring at the letters on the screen. _Is this really an emergency_? He rubbed his hand over his face and backed out of the call, scrolling through his contacts lazily. _I feel like I should ask somebody. I don't know what to do with him._ He chewed his bottom lip, pacing into the kitchen and opening the double doors of the fridge.

 _Whatever I’m looking for isn’t in here._ He sighed, shutting them and resting his forehead against the cool steel. _What am I looking for?_  

* * *

Eren groaned openly in the heat of the water, the pressure deep on his aching muscles as he leaned his palms against the tile all. Travertine, he realized, a very expensive material to make a bathroom out of.

 _He’s done well._ He smiled and turned his face up, letting the water pour into his mouth and over his burning eyes. _Hot water._ He hummed happily, spitting liquid out and watching it rush down the impeccably clean drain, reaching out to fiddle with the electronic controls of the showerheads around him. Leave it to Levi to choose the shower with all the bells and whistles.

“Were you a thug in this life, as well?” Eren asked to no one in particular. “Who are you now?” He poured shampoo into his hand, lifting his fingers to scrub at the long strand of his hair. “Have you missed me?” He wished Levi was sitting in the same room; that he was here to answer all of Eren’s questions… even if Eren knew it was more likely that he would never understand his desire to know.

“Having you close is enough isn’t it?” Eren wondered to the showerhead. “Knowing you’re okay?” 

When he had dried, dressed in the clean shirt and soft sweatpants that had been left for him, he scouted into the bedroom and threw himself down onto the plush duvet, nuzzling his face into the fabric. _It’s so comfortable_. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of Levi’s shampoo and soap and detergent. 

 _Why am I letting myself act like this?_ He wondered. _It isn’t as if this is my Levi. This isn’t the same man. I’ll never have him again._ He curled up into the warmth his body left, trying to pull up memories from the centuries before. _This one has his own life now. Without me._ He drew up Levi’s smile, rare as it was, flickering in the candlelight of their bedroom one night. He recalled the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips and the way they exchanged soft, lingering kisses that sucked at their lips and melted into each other until it seemed the kiss never ended. 

* * *

“Are you quite fin--” Levi had had enough of waiting for him, had had enough of sitting in the living room and fiddling anxiously with the television remote, but opening the french doors to his bedroom brought a sight that made his heart ache.

Eren lay curled up with his arms tucked against his chest, face nearly to his knees. A face that was now peaceful and clean. His long hair was thrown over the soft blue of the duvet, and Levi couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and touching the soft tanned skin of his temple, pushing the stray hairs aside. He wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn to this strange man. He knew literally nothing about him. He knew he was homeless, knew he was in emotional pain, and knew that he might have known him once. Or something.

 _Who are you?_ He sighed and smoothed his palm against the swell of his cheek. It had been a long time since someone had slept in his house, much less his bed. He was fastidious and naturally mistrusting, two things that didn’t often lead to sharing his home, but now he had not only let a homeless stranger into his home but he was asleep on his bed. _I’ll fix up the couch._

He returned after a moment and paused to watch him once more, reaching out to touch his leg. _He must have learned to sleep anywhere._ He picked him up, hefting his weight back to counter the the man he lifted. _He’s heavy._ He furrowed his brows and carried him into the other room, laying him out gently and pulling a blanket over him. _Why am I being so careful?_ Again he stopped to watch him sleep, nestling his head onto the pillow and tucking in the covers around him, stroking the hair from his face again.

There was something about him.

Levi had never believed in love at first sight or _connection_ bullshit. He’d been around long enough to know that those things didn’t exist. He’d seen enough relationships rise and fall, had enough worthless dates to know he would always be alone.

He’d lived a life of solitude, and he liked it that way. He didn’t have to answer to anyone or answer questions about where he’d been or where he was going. He didn’t have someone to nag him about what he was eating or how much he drank… he didn’t have to worry about someone else or how his decisions affected them.

But still... 

Something about Eren had drawn him earlier. He’d heard him scream and his heart had leap. He couldn’t stop his feet from running towards him, couldn’t stop his body from wanting to help him, couldn’t stop the reminiscent fear from pounding through his veins as he threw himself in the middle of an abandoned street to hold him in his arms.

 _Stop thinking so hard about it._ He tried to tell himself as he brushed his teeth and made his way to his bed. _Stop worrying about how you knew his name._ But the thought burrowed its way into his mind as he curled up beneath his blankets. _How did I know his name? Why did I say that?_ Sadness filled him, a sort of empty desperation. He felt as though he should know the answer. As if he _should_ know Eren Jaeger. He’d felt, at that moment on the pavement, that he _should_ have said he was sorry.

 _I kept him waiting, w_ as the last thought before sleep took him.

* * *

Eren woke suddenly, sitting up from the pillow he’d buried his face into, and looked frantically around the room. _Where am I?_ He caught his hand against his chest, pressing his palm into his heartbeat. _What am I doing?_ He swung his legs off the couch and his feet thudded against rug-covered hardwood.

Hunger pulled at his intestines, insistent and biting, and he was driven towards the crack in the bedroom doors. He hovered there for a moment, wondering if he should wake him and ask to have something to eat. _I must have fallen asleep on the bed._ He walked to the side of Levi’s bed silently, looking down at the small portion of his face that was visible. _His hands look the same._  
  
“Eren?” He felt a shiver run down his spine at the gruff familiarity in that voice.  
  
“I’m sorry to wake you up I…” the growl from his stomach drove Levi up from his nest of pillows. Eren thought he looked sweet in the grey morning light with his hair standing up above his half shorn scalp, heavy lidded eyes sleepy.  
  
“You didn’t eat,” Levi grumbled, stepping out of bed. “Jesus…” he swore as his toes touched the cold ground.  
  
“You don’t have to get up.”  
  
“Someone’s going to cook food and it isn’t going to be you,” Levi walked past him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ugh you’re lucky tomorrow’s Sunday.”  
  
Eren wanted to correct him, to cheekily tell him that it was, in fact, already Sunday… but thought better of it as Levi opened the fridge doors.  
  
“What do you want?” He grumbled, squinting against the bright light.  
  
“Uhm… anything is fine,” Eren said.

Levi sighed at his response and Eren watched his shoulders rise and fall, wanting to reach out and touch them. Wanting to touch him. To hold him close.  
  
That feeling didn’t dissipate after a plate full of eggs and bacon, an easy meal that had Eren drooling as he scarfed it down, in fact it seemed to increase with a full belly and he followed the incarnate around the kitchen, helping as best he could.  
  
“Is there anything else you need?” Levi walked back towards his room.  
  
“No,” Eren replied, hovering beside the couch. “Thank you.”  
  
“Sure,” Levi grumbled and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Eren to stare futilely at the place where he had gone.

* * *

Levi sank into his bed, closing his tired eyes against the dawn threatening to peek in through the cracks in his blinds. For a moment the loving tendrils of sleep curled around him, pulling him into their bosom of darkness and unfelt emotions-- then there was a weight on his bed and his eyes were sliding open. 

“What are you doing?” He grumbled as the person drawing the covers back stilled. He turned to face him, squinting through the darkness. “Eren?”  
  
“Can I sleep here?” Eren whispered.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Please?”  
  
Levi’s brows softened as he looked at him, watched the way his eyes shimmered in the pinking light, the way the shadows played on his face and sharpened his features… remembered the shadows sunken around his tireless face.  
  
“Just keep your hands to yourself,” Levi grumbled, relenting. He seemed to be doing that a lot of late.

Eren sank under the covers beside him, settling down before wiggling his feet together and folding a pillow over his face. He made a soft noise of satisfaction, nuzzling against the pillow lovingly.  
  
“You don’t have anyone at all?” Levi asked.  
  
“No.”  
  
“When was the last time you did? When was the last time anything was stable for you?” He whispered. “Why are you this way?”  
  
There was pain in Eren’s voice when he spoke next, “Everything was fine… before they died…” Eren whispered.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“My family,” Eren’s voice broke, muffled against the fabric.  
  
“And how long ago was that?”  
  
“Many years.”  
  
Levi felt frustration build, but perhaps he was simply tired-- and emotionally drained. This wasn’t something he could handle in one night; especially not exhausted the way he was. None of this was something he could handle.

“Will you tell me the story?”  
  
“One day,” Eren whispered. “One day I’ll try to tell you everything, okay?” Levi watched him reach out to touch the wooden box he’d carried with him.  
  
“What’s in there?”  
  
“That’s part of the story,” stormy eyes watched him and Levi’s heart leapt. “Good night, Levi.” He sighed it with a strange sort of relief, relaxing beneath the covers.  
  
Levi watched him fade, watched the moment when sleep took him and his lips relaxed and his brows lifted and the shadows around his eyes softened. He watched how Eren curled in on himself protectively, how he clutched his pillow to himself… heard how he murmured in a language Levi didn’t understand.

He watched him until he fell asleep, counting his lashes and wondering just what this mysterious boy’s story was. This mysterious boy that slid into his life and burrowed his way into his bed in a matter of hours. This mysterious boy whose name he seemed to know. 

The mysterious Eren Jaeger who held all the answers to all his questions.

**Author's Note:**

> Story title from "Til the Last Shot's Fired" by Trace Adkins


End file.
